Greetings from Providence!
by HeadinTheClouds13
Summary: After a bad break-up Steven Meeks needs a new perspective on life, and where better to get one than Providence, Rhode Island?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence**

**Chapter One**

It's Gerard's idea, which should have been a clue from the beginning that maybe it wasn't the best plan in the word. But he was the one who went through with it so Steven really has no one to blame but himself. Even if he only agreed in a moment of weakness and spurred on by both Gerard and his girlfriend. Well actually, of one wanted to be more accurate it was actually Jeffery's fault.

Steven had met Jeffery on his first day of work at Penpals Stationary when he was getting a tour of the distributing centre trotting behind Gerard who had been told to show him around. Jeffery was standing on a set of metal steps looking ridiculously good-looking in his hard helmet, not like Steven who's helmet was too big and kept slipping down his forehead and cracking against the top of his glasses. Jeffery smiled at him and shook his hand and that's when he feel in love.

But he knows now why they call it falling in love, because eventually you hit the bottom and everything shatters around you and Steven hadn't even seen it coming.

"We're just so different, we want completely different things in life," Jeffery had said, holding his hand while he told him, sympathetic to the pain he caused. But that was a lie. They hadn't wanted different things at all, they had wanted exactly the same things because exactly 5 days, 7 hours, and 23 minutes after they broke up Jeffery had gotten the manager position that Steven had been pining over for 2 years. Gerard had promptly kidnapped him and dragged him to a sushi place to help him drown his sorrows in rice wine and raw fish.

"You know what the worst thing is? I'm more upset about the job then the break up. What the hell does that say about me? I don't even like my job that much, why would I want to advance in a company I don't even like working for? I mean it's not as if I'm passionate about stationary. It's a dying industry only supported by grandmothers and girls who think letters are romantic." Steven said, half muffled due to his head resting on the counter of the bar.

"I think letters are romantic."

Steven sighs lifting his forehead off of the cold marble of the bar, "Fine, let the record show that grandmothers, romantic girls, and Gerard Pitts are supporting the stationary market."

Gerard nods approvingly before shoving more crab roll in his mouth, skipping the chopsticks and using his fingers instead. Though about halfway through his fourth one he starts to choke, and not just due to the ridiculous amounts of crab and rice he has in his mouth. "Er, I think we should head out now, come on." He says grabbing his coat and trying to hustle Steven upright.

"I haven't even gotten my spicy tuna roll yet," He protests and then he sees it. And time goes all slow and distorted like he's falling through water and he watches their hands intertwine on the table. Jeffery and this guy who looks much too comfortable with him for this to be a first date. Then he's gone, out into the humid night air.

He makes almost four or five blocks before he realizes he has no idea where's he's going and that he left his blazer with his wallet and keys back at the restaurant. Grudgingly he turns around and heads back towards the way he came and about halfway there Gerard meets him with his stuff and an apologetic look. "Do you wanna come back to my place?" He says instead of something stupid like 'I'm sorry' or 'you're better off without him' and Steven knows that's why they're best friends.

He zones out on the train ride to Gerard's place and thinks about love stories. How he was just the conflict in somebody else's love story, a bystander, the unlucky side effect. He wonders if there's always someone like this. How many untold stories are there about the people who fall in love alone and are left gasping like fish when the well of disillusion finally dries up?

Ironically spending time with Gerard and his girlfriend, who are ridiculously in love, makes him feel somewhat better. They both fuss over him and she makes him crepes Suzette. Which are technically just crepes made by someone named Suzette but he doesn't really care at the moment because they taste good and it's something to do with his hands. "Poor Steven," Suzette says, "I will cut this Jeffery boy for you, hmm?" Which in her French-Canadian accent sounds so hilarious he ends up choking a little bit from laughing.

"I think I'm going to get dumped more often if I get this sort of attention, not to mention crepes." Steven says jabbing at the last stray crumbs on his plate. He exhales sharply jutting out his bottom lip blowing his fringe upwards. "Actually, no statement retracted, being dumped sucks."

"Don't forget losing the job!" Gerard adds cheerfully from the living room where he appears to be watching some documentary about sharks.

"Jee-rard!" Suzette says scandalized, frowning severely at the back of his head before looking over at Steven, "I apologize for my boyfriend who is an incompetent bastard." Which she makes sound ridiculously endearing

"And lazy." Steven suggests. "And badly dressed." Which is pretty much the only one of those four things which is arguably true but of course that leads to a long discussion over Gerard's questionable choices in clothing; including but not limited to puffy vests, bowler hats, and suspenders with jeans. They end up all squished together on a love seat pretending to be a couch and watch the show about sharks until Gerard heads off to bed, insisting Steven should stay the night.

He curls up on the love seat, blankets pulled up to his chin and fisted in his hands and Suzette asks if he needs anything else. "A new life?" He asks pretending to be joking and failing miserably, she makes a tutting noise and gives him a kiss on the forehead before padding softly down the hall. Steven can hear them talking softly in french from their bedroom and falls asleep to the sound of their voices, distant but comfortable.

His wake up the next morning is less so as it involves Gerard jumping into the minuscule amount of space not being taken up by his body and jabs him in the face in the way of a wake-up call. "Steven! Wake-up! Suze and I have had the best idea in the world and you need to be conscious right now to hear it."

Steven grabs his glasses from where he left them on the coffee table. "Okay, what is this fantastic idea? And it better not involve hooking me up with someone from one of those gay dating sites."

"No! It's better. So I found this website where people rent out their houses and instead of staying in a boring hotel you go and stay there. Like a bed and breakfast only better because you can have sex without the owners hearing you."

Steven looked at him blankly, "So what you and Suzette are doing this?"

"No, don't you see you should do it! It's perfect, get away for a few weeks, you know change of scenery." Gerard looks at him expectantly, "So?"

"No." He says simply pulling the blanket back over his head.

"What, why?" He can heard the pout in Gerard's voice.

Steven peeks out from under the blanket and pushes his hair up over his forehead in a way which does not at all help his humongous bed head. "Because I have work and I can't just leave."

"You have more holidays saved up than anyone I know, take them, get away. You're stuck in a rut right now and you're so deep down you can't even see it. So I'm kicking you out. Literally, because we've already set up you up with a house. And we bought you plane tickets. Think of it as a gift."

"_You didn't_." He gasps standing up angrily, an effect somewhat ruined by getting his legs tangled in the blankets but the emotion is still there.

"Sure did, you leave tonight."

"Even if I wanted to go on this trip-which I don't- I can't accept that."

Gerard sighed, "Look, I had a bunch of points saved up so it was like 10 bucks and we're not actually paying for the house (You'd have to pay for that) so it's really not a big deal."

"Well I don't accept it."

"Just think of it as an early Christmas present!"

"Gerard, its October."

"Steven?" Suzette looks at him from across the island in the kitchen, "Please do it? For me?" And she's got these big pleading eyes and her stupid Quebecois accent and he relents because sometimes Steven is sure that he has absolutely no control over his own life.

"Fine. Where am I going?" He may have to do this but he's not going to be happy about it.

"Providence, Rhode Island!" Suzette trills drumming her hands on the countertop like it's a big reveal

Steven let's himself fall back onto the loveseat, "Oh goody."

"Hey, could be worse. You could be going to Iowa, "

So there it is, the short but sad story of his Steven Meeks currently found himself on the flight from Seattle to Providence with the carry-on bag he was lucky enough to hastily pack on the short trip back to his apartment so he could shower and grab the necessities. "It'll be so fun!" Gerard says repeatedly on the car ride to the airport, "I bet you won't even want to come back! Besides, from what I know about Providence-"

"You mean what you found on google while I was sleeping?"

Gerard conveniently avoided looking at him while he continued"-It's all artsy and shit, you'll love it. That poet guy used to live there, you know the one with the crow. Caw!"

He rolled his eyes and ignored Gerard for the rest of the car ride but did allow him to give him a man hug before he went through security, which despite being awkward because of the height difference, was sort of nice. He also reminded Steven to pack his sleepingmask so he was able to sleep through most of the flight, so maybe he wasn't such a terrible friend after all.

Though Steven retracted that though when -after being shown around the ridiculously large house he was to be staying in by an intensely charming guy named Neil- a drunk guy showed up on his porch at 1 in the morning..

**A.N. Despite needing to finish Dead Sexy Society, I am for some illogical reason starting this wherein, as you've likely gathered Steven goes to Rhode Island. I have not been to Rhode Island, so I'm not sure why it's set there. That being said if you have and you notice something that is wrong, please feel free to let me know. Also, be forewarned that future chapters of this fic will include the following; Charlie on a skateboard, vague references to The Great Gatsby, trips to museums I learned about on google, and Back to The Future. Don't say I didn't warn you. **

**-C**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence!**

**Chapter Two**

Steven spends most of the day wandering around the house and unpacking. Neil had given him a brief tour before running off claiming he had to go help set up for a wedding. He shoved a key and a handwritten sheet of information into his hands before leaving Steven alone in the mammoth house. It's huge with 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, an office, a formal dining room, a huge eat-in kitchen, and a stone patio leading towards a pool. It's beautiful and Steven kind of hates it. From what Gerard had said it was going to be a little cottage, someone's well loved family getaway. Instead it's so cold and impersonal it's making him feel even more lonely.

Which is why it's almost a relief when someone starts banging on the door.

He was sitting on the couch flipping through channels on the ridiculously huge flatscreen tv debating whether to watch the end of the Matrix or whether he should attempt to read one of the half dozen books he had brought with him. It's 1 am here but his body is still on Pacific time and thinks it's only 10 pm. That's when the banging and shouting had started.

Steven had cautiously made his way towards the front door wishing he had a baseball bat or something in case it was a burglar. Though burglars didn't normally knock.

"_Neil!_" The voice came through the door, muffled but definitely masculine. "_Neil open the goddamned door! I'm giving you three seconds before I piss on your plants!_ _Three...two..."_

Steven opens the door and finds himself face to face with the pseudo-burglar. "-One..." The burglar says more as an afterthought staring at Steven. "You're not Neil."

"Oh, no sorry. I'm renting the house for the next few weeks."

"Oh, sorry." The guy says clearly embarrassed. He's wearing a black suit with no tie and an open collar. His pants are cuffed shorter than is really necessary, maybe to show off the red socks he's wearing. All topped off with a bowler hat like some sort of weird beatnik hipster.

Steven sighs. "Did you want to use the bathroom?"

"God yes!" The guy says brushing past Steven and automatically heading down the hall towards the bathroom, so he has been here before, Steven thinks as an after thought.

He stands in the front hallway feeling stupid as the guy uses the bathroom not sure whether he should go back to watching television or wait for him to come back. He spends so long making a decision that the guy comes back before he's decided.

"Right," He says, "Sorry, introductions. I'm Charlie Dalton, Neil and Todd's semi-respectable friend and neighbour. I don't normally go around threatening to piss on people's ferns so for that I apologize."

"Oh." Steven says, he seems to be saying that a lot, the strange appearance of this man, well man-boy, has startled him slightly. "I'm Steven Meeks. And I'm staying here. I think I already said that." He can feel himself flushing. Something about this guy, his self-assuredness makes Steven feel ill at ease. Jeffery always had the same effect, able to talk anyone into anything. And he's not supposed to be thinking about Jeffery so he tells his brain to shut up.

"Well Steven Meeks, it was very nice meeting you. Hopefully next time we meet there will be less alchol involved. Or maybe more." He winks at him before making his way to the door. He stumbles slightly on the carpet and Steven's mothering instinct kicks in hard.

"Wait! Look, if you want to just crash here or whatever. There are like 15 guest rooms anyways and I don't think you should be driving." Steven's seen the size of these lots, 'neighbour' here could mean a 10 minute drive.

"You're very trusting." Charlie says hands folded over his chest giving Steven a look over.

"Well if you're going to steal anything it's not exactly going to be a hard case for the police, I'll just tell them to look for the douchebag in a bowler hat and flood pants." It's out before he can think about it and for one moment he's a bit scared as Charlie turns around slowly and walks back down the hall brushing past him. There's a grin in his voice though as he mounts the stairs calling behind him; "Steven Meeks I am liking you more and more."

Steven attempts to go back to the Matrix but once the sounds of Charlie banging around getting ready for bed stops he's suddenly very lonely again and decides it's best to just go to bed.

When Steven wakes up there's a distinct smell of pancakes. And for one glorious moment he can pretend he's back in Gerard and Suzette's apartment and any moment Gerard will jump on his legs and Suzette will feed him crepes. Instead the smoke detector goes off.

By the time he's padded into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants he finds Charlie attempting to jab the smoke detector with the handle of a broom. "Don't panic!" He shouts, "I got it! I got it!" The shrill beeping suddenly stops and Charlie turns around fully dressed in his ridiculous suit. He holds out a plate "Pancakes?" He asks almost shyly for someone shouting only a moment ago.

"Thanks." He takes the plate and proceeds to cover them in butter and then table syrup (he can hear Suzette chastizing him from Washington, a complete maple syrup purest). He momentarily wishes he had some whipped cream but thinks that it might not be the coolest thing to do in front of the only person he's met so far.. Jeffery used to make fun of him when they'd go out for coffee and he'd order something with chocolate syrup and whipped cream involved.

They eat in silence but it's surprisingly comfortable. Steven reads the paper and Charlie stares off into space obviously lost in thought. Eventually though he gets up and places his dishes in the dishwasher. "Soooo..." He says, "What brings you to Providence?"

"My best friend and his girlfriend conspired against me and decided I needed a vacation. So they stuck me on a plane and here I am."

"Break up?" Charlie guesses leaning up against the dishwasher.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You talk in your sleep." He slides off the counter and swaggers off into the living room while Steven is left to digest what the hell he could have said for him to be able to draw that conclusion so quickly.

Maybe he seemed sad? His mother had always said he had a sad aura to him, something which had always made him so angry when she said it. Charlie re-entered the kitchen his bowler hat once again on his head at a rath jaunty angle and two books clutched in his hand. Steven craned to see the titles, one the was _Naked Lunch_, Jeffery had given it to him a few years ago but he'd never actually gotten around to reading it.

"I'm going to save you the trouble of reading this. It's 85% really creepy gay porn." Charlie said placing it on the counter, "Read _Barney's Version_ instead. Much better." He slid the book towards him. One of Suzette's picks, another gift he hadn't bothered reading. Steven raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"I work for a publishing company. Trust me." Charlie adjusted his hat and tugged on his sleeves, "Now, I thank you for your gracious hospitality but I really need to dash. It was wonderful meeting you and making you pancakes Steven Meeks." And with that he's gone down the hall and out the front door.

Until he's not and his head and that ridiculous hat is peaking back through the doorway.

"Actually, on second thought are you doing anything today?"

**A.N. Just some set-up. I'm reading _Naked Lunch_ right now. It is, so far, 85% of the weirdest gay porn I've ever read. And that's coming from someone activiely engaged in fandom. **

**-C**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence!**

**Chapter Three**

He's been in Rhode Island for less than 24 hours and already he's in a hospital. Charlie's shouting for a nurse while pressing a cardigan up against his face and Steven lets himself blackout for a bit. He does deserve it afterall.

It had started rather innocently. Charlie insisted he should come with him to the country club. "I'm supposed to go golfing with some friends, but they're all...couply. But they're really nice and the club is great for golf. Or so I hear. I really don't know anything about golf. Other than that a hole-in-one is good."

"Um," Steven said looking over his shoulder and into the living room. He really wasn't planning on doing anything, maybe reading a book or heading to the store to buy some food. Stupidly he had told Charlie that he wasn't in town to visit anyone so he couldn't even use that excuse. "Okay, I guess. I mean I've never really golfed before. Golfed? Is that the proper verb?"

Charlie shrugged, "I don't know. Besides I don't think any of them have either. You'll fit in great" Which in truth was a bit of an understatement since one of those said friends hit him in the face with a golfclub. Or rather she threw a golfclub into his face so hard that all that Steven remembers hearing in that moment was a loud resounding crack that filled his entire head. First he hopes it's not his glasses. Second he hopes it's not his nose.

It's both.

Luckily the same girl who broke his nose is a registered nurse. Thank god for small mercies. Though that means that instead of getting driven to an actual proper hospital he gets treated in the back of Charlie's beetle by a girl with a sharks tooth earring. The rubber gloves and the disinfectant wipes she magically procures does make him feel slightly more at ease though. Her name's Tarah, or Sarah, or Farah or something. Something with an unnecessary H at the end because she had mentioned that at some point. Steven feels weirdly proud of himself for remembering this despite the fact that he's forgotten her name. "He might go into shock in about 20 minutes, just watch for that, usually fainting, maybe some vomiting." Tarah/Sarah/Farah says to Charlie who's holding onto the shards of Steven's broken glasses.

"You seem to know a lot about this." Steven says only it sounded ridiculous through his swollen nasal cavities and the massive amount of fast food napkins they had dug out of the glove compartment to stem the flow of blood.

Knox, Tarah/Sarah/Farah's boyfriend suddenly appears, or rather the orange and brown blob of him appears behind her, "Yeah, I've broken my nose once or twice-"

"This month." Charlie says cutting him off.

"Yeah, okay Charlie thanks for your contribution. What I was saying is that when you happen to have broken your nose a _few_ times your nurse girlfriend tends to figure out what sort of symptoms you'll have."

"Yes, your clumsiness gave me more hands on experience than 4 years of nursing school." She says turning away from Steven, hands on her hips.

"I'm not the one who hit him in the face with a golfclub." Knox replies flippantly, a hint of malice nipping at the heels of his statement.

So Steven sits in the passenger seat sideways, legs dangling out the door for twenty minutes while Tarah/Sarah/Farah and Knox fight and wait to see if he'll faint or throw up. In the end he does neither and Charlie is allowed to drive him home with both the remains of his glasses and his dignity.

"So...sorry about your face." Charlie says finally. "And your glasses. I'll pay for the new ones. And don't say I don't have to because I really do."

Steven shrugs. "Okay. Fine I guess." He's not going to argue about it, he knew Charlie felt bad about it. He was contemplating whether or not he'd be able to find the exact same pair when the world tilted sideways sharply and then went black.

When he awoke again it was to the sounds of someone shouting and something rough and scratchy pressing against his face in such a way he's having a hard time breathing. "Steven Meeks! Omigod you're not dead!" Charlie shouts and Steven realizes that the thing pressed against his nose is Charlie's godawful cardigan. "Okay, good news and bad news. Good news your nose broke cleanly so it'll heal great. Bad news you have a concussion from where you hit the ground when Tarah hit you in the face."

So it _was_ Tarah, Steven thinks before blacking out again.

It goes better the next time. The fact that Steven manages to stay conscious and only throws up once on the car ride home can be considered 'better'. Charlie had pulled over so he could throw up in the ditch. "That's it," He says, "Just give it back to mothernature." Steven would have flipped him off if his insides hadn't been waging war on him.

They drive up to a house, that even without his glasses Steven can tell wasn't the one he was staying in. "This isn't my house."

Charlie rolls his eyes and turns the engine off, "No shit Sherlock, it's mine. I'm not leaving you alone to fumble around in a house you've spent less than 24 hours in." Steven huffs out a breath ruffling a few stray hairs.

"Fine." And then Charlie was smiling at him all stupidly and blurred while he escorts him (in a way that was more handsy than Steven thinks was strictly necessary) inside and onto a sofa which was so fluffy it swallows him a little bit when he sits down. He watches as the greyish blob of a cat froze on a chair opposite him before skittering away. "Don't mind Dennings." Charlie says flopping down on the same chair the cat had vacated.

"You have a cat named Dennings? Like Kat Dennings? You really couldn't come up with a better actor's name to parody."

"Hey, you seen Charlie Bartlett? That shit's awesome."

Steven shrugs, "Never seen it."

"No way! Okay we're watching it right now!" Charlie leaps up.

He snorts, "Yes without my sight that will be bundles of fun."

"Riiiight." Charlie drawls, "So what do you want to do?"

"Can't I just go to sleep?" He asks, even though he's really not tired, what with all the passing out.

Charlie gapes at him, "It's 9:00pm, on a _Saturday_. Steven Meeks, really Carpe Diem."

"Carpe Noctum would really be more appropriate."

"Congratulations, you officially ruined Carpe Diem." Charlie throws himself back onto the couch and pouts. "Okay, you owe me a story. For ruining Carpe Diem."

Steven sighs, he should never have opened the stupid door, this was really all self-inflicted. "I don't have any stories."

"_Steven Meeks_ ! Everyone has stories. Just tell me, you know, about your life and stuff. Besides if you don't tell me I have the power of the internet on my side."

"Good luck. I don't even have facebook."

Charlie gapes at him, "You're lying!" He leans forward so far into his personal space his face stops being fuzzy and becomes clear, "You're not."

"I work for a cardmaking company, my boss is convinced that we can somehow stop facebook and cards will make a comeback." Steven reaches up to adjust his glasses before remembering he's not wearing them. Nervous habit. "It's stupid, but whatever."

"But how would he know!"

"He has a facebook account just to make sure no one gets a facebook account. I swear I'm not making this up." He adds hastily as Charlie shakes his head.

"So okay other than working at the facist card company what do you do with yourself?"

"Not a lot. Sometimes I hang out with my friends, you know the ones who forced me against my will to come here, but I dunno. It kind of sucks being this sad single guy around them. I mean Gerard works in wedding invites and she has a florist shop so they met through like a love of love. Who can compete with that?" He sighs.

"Who _can _compete with that?" Charlie echoes. He gets up his joints cracking. "Do you want something to eat or drink or something?" He wanders off out of sight.

"I thought you wanted to know my life story!" He calls after him.

"Life stories are always better with grilled cheese!" Steven shakes his head but does eventually except the plate Charlie returns with. He's not even sure what type of cheese is in it but it's all melty and gooey and the bread is clearly from a bakery or maybe even homemade. If there's one thing that can be said about the people Steven seems to attract it's that they all seem to be good cooks.

"Do you want to be alone with the grilled cheese?" Charlie asks after the second or third time he moans after taking a bite. He glares at him, "Hey, I'm not complaining. I take that as a compliment. I actually used to write the restaurant guides for the tourist books so I know my stuff. Though that didn't stop them from firing me."

"Why?"

"Cause I was withholding information about certain restaurants. It's like, I just couldn't publish about someone's amazing food just to have them be swamped with tourists who wouldn't appreciate it anyways. Like somethings are too special to be given away, you have to earn them. Does that make sense."

Steven nods, "I guess." Even though it doesn't quite make sense and there's something probably deeper to it. Or maybe not, it's hard to tell with Charlie. "So what do you do now?"

"I'm a junior editor for YA fiction. Which means all the older editors push all the crappy vampire novels and books about girls being bitches to one another on me."

"Sounds fun."

"Oh, bundles. The stupid thing is my boss is always saying these things to me, like 'we need to find the next Hunger Games!' Why does something always have to be the next one, can't it just be-" He stops suddenly looking at him straight on.

"What?" Steven asks feeling slightly self conscious and hoping his face hasn't gone disgustingly red.

"Just...your face." He says getting up and leaning in slightly. "I don't know. I like it. Even if it looks kind of naked."

"Sorry?"

"You know, naked. Without your glasses I mean." Charlie turns and takes his plate off the coffee table leaving Steven alone in the living room. The greyish blob of Cat Dennings jumps up onto the couch beside him and trills and arches her back until he pets her.

And he knows. He knows that something important has just happened.

If only he knew what it meant.

**A.N. Yay! It's the random background information chapter.**

**-C**

**A review a day makes the muses stay! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence!**

**Chapter Four**

Steven wakes up with Cat Dennings sitting on his face. Which really isn't as sexy as it sounds. He tries to shove her off without getting a claw in his eye but she only trills and purrs at him. Finally he lifts her off of his face completely and sets her on the floor only to then have her start whining from the kitchen for food 30 seconds later.

Resigning to not getting anymore sleep Steven pushes himself upright from the couch and searches for his glasses before realizing he doesn't have any anymore. Groaning he cracks his neck and pads his way into the kitchen. Cat Dennings winds herself around his legs meowing at him really more loudly than is necessary. "Okay, okay I'm getting you food." Which quickly turns into a lie when he can't find anything resembling cat food in Charlie's ridiculously small kitchen.

Sighing he turns and attempts to make his way back to the couch. Cat Dennings trots after him meowing in a way that makes him feel guilty. "Fine!" He snaps and trudges up the stairs. Which of course, _of course_, happens to be a wrought iron spiral staircase that leads into Charlie's bedroom. "Charlie, Charlie, wake up your cat wants food." He hisses from the top of the stairs not wanting to invade on his privacy too much. For a brief minute, after Charlie doesn't say anything, Steven starts to wonder if the way he's sleeping face down on the mattress might have caused him to suffocate in his sleep.

Though after Charlie jolts up right with a cracking of joints so loud and horrible sounding Steven sort of wishes he was dead. "Ugh! Don't _do_ that."

"Can't help it." He murmurs stepping over piles of manuscripts littering the floor. When he brushes past Steven and down the stairs he realizes Charlie must be one of those people who seem to think putting clothing on in front of new acquaintances isn't necessary. He makes no move to cover anything his boxers weren't already. His bare feet hit the metal rungs with a weird suction sound and he follows him into the kitchen.

"C'mere kittygirl," he says to Cat Dennings who mewls excitedly at him as he pulls a box of cat food out of the refrigerator of all places. "Can't keep it anywhere else or she gets into it." He shakes the box at Steven as if to make his point. "So what do you want to do today?" He asks over his shoulder as he bends down to fill the dish.

"Uh, I thought we were going to get me some glasses?" _And then I could go back to the house I'm paying to spend time in and relax,_ he thinks.

"Sure, but after that. I know a really great diner we could get brunch at. I could take you to see some touristy stuff too if that's your bit. So?"

"I just really want to be able to see again, thanks. And then maybe go home and sleep." He thinks he sees Charlie look a little disappointed but it's hard to tell when everything so blurry.

"Fine, I'm just going to go put some clothes on. I know, I know you're so disappointed."

Steven snorts, "I can't see anything, your nipples just look like pepperoni."

"I'm going to pretend that's a compliment." He calls over his shoulder as he climbs back up his thoroughly ridiculously spiral staircase.

It's a full hour and a half later when Charlie appears again at the foot of the stairs while Steven is watching 'The Price is Right'. "You idiot that showcase cost at _least_ $30 000!" he shouts at the middle-aged lady who just guessed. "God, people like that don't deserve to get into the showcase showdown." He huffs crossing his arms over his rumpled clothes from the day before.

"Hey, I'm ready to go." Charlie says.

Steven arches an eyebrow. "You made me wait for over an hour. Now sit down, shut up and lets see which one of these sad people gets a dune-buggy."

"Isn't it a bit boring when you can't see anything?"

"Nah, the announcer says enough stuff that I know what it is. Like described video."

In the end the slightly less obese middle-aged lady wins the showcase, the one who guessed $30 000. "Stupid dumb luck." Steven scoffs hauling his shoes on.

"You're one of those guys who answers along with Jeopardy aren't you?" Charlie asks arms snug around his chest.

"Technically they're in the form of questions."

"Shut up and get in the car." Charlie says pretending to throw the car keys at him, "Jesus, you think you're so cute."

For someone who waltzes around like they own the world Charlie is a surprisingly cautious driver. Coming to a full stop at every intersection and checking over his shoulder's more than anyone who's not taking a drivers exam really needs to.

They pull into some sort of indie frames store that has actual live models showing off various pairs in the window. "I used to work here part-time when I needed to make some extra money. Trust me it's harder than it looks."

Steven's not surprised that someone would pay Charlie to have him model for them. He's not the best looking guy in the world (and certainly not the tallest) but he's got a strange aura about him. The way he carries himself, the way he talks and takes control. It all just exudes a sexy confidence that makes people pay attention.

Three entire walls of the shop are covered in frames. One for men's, one for women's, and one for sunglasses. Even if he could see properly to take it in he has the feeling it would have taken hours. Normally he ends up doing one of those $100 pair deals which means he only really has a handful of frames to choose from. Not that he really cares. The last four years he has been wearing a simple rectangular black wire pair which worked just fine and hadn't broken all the times he had dropped them.

Charlie paces up and down the racks of frames pulling off at least 2 dozen before sitting him in front of a mirror. Very quickly though it becomes apparent that they do not have the same tastes at all. The heavy black plastic frames Charlie likes seem bulky and immature, the simpler wire framed ones Steven likes are 'boring' and unimaginative.

Finally after about half an hour of arguing a sales lady stomps over the them. "Here," She thrusts a pair of frames at him, "Try these."

They're an older style. Thick plastic on the top with no sides or bottom. Like something you'd see in a move set in the 1960's. Charlie whistles through his teeth, "You look like a sexy rocket scientist." Even though he has to press his face up against the mirror to see what they look like Steven can't help but agree. Charlie refuses to let him even partially pay and he leans up against a display case while they make the transaction.

"The lady at the counter said it'd be ready in an hour. Also that your prescription is so bad that you're legally blind. I'm surprised you haven't died."

"Well, you know, the day is young."

They go to a diner down the block and Charlie makes him order johnnycakes which are apparently a New England thing since he's never heard of them. They sort of taste like cornbread pancakes and are awesome covered in maple syrup.

"So I was thinking," Charlie said shoveling another mouthful, "That maybe tomorrow we could go to the zoo? Or if that's not your thing we could just watch the giraffe cam and go downtown to-" He cuts off staring over Steven's left shoulder.

He turns even though he can't see anything more discerning than a two people shaped blobs, one obviously male, one female. Charlie's eyes follow them as they get closer and closer to the booth they're sitting in. He seems to debate the merits of trying to hide under the table or possibly run away and Steven recognizes the look so much it hurts.

"Chaz!" The guy says, "Hey, I'm glad we ran into you. I didn't get to say goodbye at the wedding and I just wanted to thank you for coming."

"Jeffery! I thought, I thought you'd be on your honeymoon already." Charlie says in a voice that sounds completely alien.

"Our flight got delayed so we decided to take a flight out tomorrow morning. Hoping to get me out of the office sooner eh Chaz?" He claps Charlie on the shoulder and he visibly winces. He suddenly seems to notice Steven and gives him a local news anchor style smile, in that it is both blinding and insincere. "I'm sorry, I'm Jeffery Anderson" He sticks his hand out and shakes Steven's just a little bit more aggressively than is really pleasant.

"Steven Meeks."

"Jeffery's my boss." Charlie says, "And this is his _wife_ Meghan." He doesn't say it with malice exactly but there's something there simmering under the surface. Unrequited love with the bosses wife maybe?

Meghan smiles at him. She's pretty in sort of a boring way. "Are you two...?" She trails off but the implication is obvious. Steven glances at Charlie. Oh. _Oh. _Okay. Unrequited love with the boss. Named Jeffery. Of course. Irony is a bitch.

"Steven's staying in Todd's old house. I'm showing him around." Charlie says in a clipped tone which pisses him off in a way it probably shouldn't. "Todd's Jeffery's brother." he says turning to Steven.

"Oh. Well I hope you have a nice time while you're here." She grabs Jeffery's hand and they leave the restaurant.

Charlie crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm going to go pay." He gets up and quite literally stomps over to the cash. After they pick up his new glasses (seeing things again seems almost magical) Charlie drives him back to the house.

"I guess I'll see you later?" Steven asks getting out of the car.

"Yeah. Maybe. I'm pretty busy with work." He says sullenly.

"Oh. Okay. Well thanks for the food, and the glasses, and watching out for me. I actually had a nice time all things considered."

Charlie looks up from the steering wheel and gives him a weary smile. "You're one of a kind Steven Meeks."

His heart gives a weird double thump and it's been so long since he's felt anything like that that he doesn't even realize until Charlie's car is out of sight what's happened.

He's totally fucked.

**A.N. Basically Steven bought the glasses he wears in the movie. Cause I can do that because I'm the boss writer lady. **

**-C**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

It takes Steven almost a full day to remember how to relax. The first day he unpacks all of his things and hangs them up in the closets, goes out to the grocery store and buys some basics and then. Well then he doesn't know what to do. He paces the house going up and down the stairs and even with his body in constant motion his thoughts feel sluggish and thick.

Finally he admits defeat and flops into the mountain of pillows on the bed and goes to sleep at 6pm. It's not the worst of plans but he does regret it when he wakes up with a stale taste in his mouth and a pounding headache. His phone is ringing off in the distance playing some stupid Lady Gaga song Gerard put as his ringtone and then changed the password. He fumbles for the phone knocking the digital clock off the bedside table with a thump.

_Suzette_ C_alling_ the display flashes up at him. "Nrgh, what?"

"Steven? 'Ello? What's wrong with your voice?"

He feels his swollen nose. Weirdly he had almost managed to forget about it."Nothing," He lies, "I'm just tired."

"Sorry, is it too late there?"

He lifts himself up to look at the clock he knocked on the floor. 8:38. "No. I was just having a nap. Sorry. How're you?"

She sighs deeply. "I'm at my parents, for Thanksgiving. It's basically hell on earth, but eh, what can you do?" He had forgotten she was going home for Thanksgiving, the Canadian one. "Let's talk about you though. How's Providence?"

"Uh, it's sort of damp." He decides it's best to leave out the part about his broken nose and concussion before he kicks Suzette's mothering instincts into overdrive. "Oh, and I met a guy."

"Oooo!" She squeals, "Is he cute."

"Not really. I mean, I don't know. What's that even mean; 'cute'? He's just, he sort of showed up at the place I'm staying and we hung out today. It was all very platonic and family friendly."

"Uh huh." Suzette clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "So a dashing stranger just shows up at your house and spends the whole day with you, but it was all very platonic? Is he straight?"

The only way Steven can explain his way out of that one involves telling her more than he really wants to. "I dunno. Look Suze, I'm really tired and I probably shouldn't be keeping you from your family."

She sighs into the phone. "Alright, be careful with this boy," he rolls his eyes "and Steven you know you are my family too, right?"

"Alright." He says his throat feeling hot and sticky.

"Call Gerard."

"Okay." He hangs up and in a fit of extreme maturity throws his phone on the floor, rolls over and goes back to sleep.

Over the next two days he magically seems to rediscover relaxing. He gets up and spends a ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out the giant coffee maker in the kitchen with a latte steamer and an Italian press built in. It takes him ages but eventually he figures it out and makes himself an espresso. He also learns that he hates espresso and makes himself a hot chocolate instead. Steven swiftly makes his way through his pile of novels and spends all morning watching The Price is Right and becomes addicted to Food Network.

On his third day alone he discovers _Dr Murder_ which is a weird soap opera/medical drama/detective show that's on every day at 3:00. It seems to be some sort of reinterpretation of Jekyl and Hyde with the main character Dr. Merder transforming into the evil Dr. Murder and killing off the same patients Dr. Merder was trying to save. It's stupid and overly dramatic and the lighting is _terrible_ but Steven likes it anyways. The guy who plays Dr. Merder/Murder looks vaguely familiar but he never manages to place him.

He calls Gerard and reassures him that he's not dead. He gets a laugh out of the unabridged story of his first two days in Providence but he too seems to think it was something more. "I dunno man, sounds like this Charlie guy likes you."

"No way, he's hung up on some married guy. Real dick, Jeffery something or other."

"Seems to be a popular name for assholes. Well, all the good ones go for jerks it seems." There's a weird crinkling noise on the other side of the phone.

"Are you eating while on the phone with me? Seriously?" Steven scoffs leaning on the marble counter.

"'m hungry!" He protests.

"Because it's not like you're already using your mouth for something."

"That's what she said!"

"That doesn't even-" There's a soft polite knock at the door. "Gerard, I gotta go, someone's at the door."

"See ya later alligator." He throws the phone on the counter with a clink. He's only wearing his crappy MIT sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants that Suzette has threaten to throw out several times but since it's probably just the mailman he doesn't care much.

It is of course not the mailman. It's Charlie.

"Hi." Steven says mentally cursing himself for not checking in the peephole.

Charlie glances up at him and then down at his mail and then bursts out laughing. Steven seriously considers slamming the door in his face but decides against it since he really does need his mail. "You live in Forks? Like Forks, Washington? Like Forks ,Washington from Twilight! Oh man, this is the best day ever. This is so going on Facebook!"

"Fuck you. You know Forks was a real place long before that bitch exploited it."

Charlie wipes at his eyes, "Oh man. Sorry, sorry. Is that why you're so pale? Are you a vampire?"

"I don't know why you're laughing at me. You're the one who read Twilight."

Charlie doesn't respond to that but instead waltzes past him and throws his pile of mail on the side table. "I'm a YA editor, you think I haven't read Twilight? And trust me I've read much worse."

"Other than rifling through my mail is there any reason you're here?" The same rocking feeling in his stomach has returned.

Charlie flops down on the couch, amid a half dozen puzzle books and the Bitchin' Kitchen cookbook. "Yeah, I thought we were going to go to the zoo." He tips his hat back -plaid fedora- and bats at his fringe.

"Now?"

"Why not?"

Steven purses his lips. He's sure there were reasons but now with Charlie staring at him with his face so _open_ they all seem to get swept into the corners of his brain. "Uh, well I have to get dressed first."

"Okay," he stretches his arms along the back of the couch, "I can wait." Begrudgingly he turns and starts to climb up the stairs. Suddenly everything he owns seems ridiculous and formal. Button down shirts, linen slacks, sport coats. The only pair of jeans he brought he'd worn the last four days but he fishes them out of the hamper anyways and tugs them on. His most casual shirt a long sleeved thermal Suzette had got him as a birthday gift with a picture of Marconi and Tesla battling on the front. It's dorky but it's cold enough he could put a jacket on overtop. Feeling as satisfied as he ever was going to be with his outfit and his attempt to flatten his hair he heads back downstairs. The bruises from his broken nose have started to fade enough that in the right light he doesn't look like he's gotten into a fight. Steven hits the living room in time to see Charlie flipping through his recorded television shows.

"You have 30 episodes of _Dr. Murder_ recorded."

"Yeah? So, is that a problem? I'm on vacation I can watch terrible television if I want."

Charlie grins at him, "Nevermind, you can find out for yourself. Ready to go?" He makes a grand sweeping gesture with his arms like a footman in a Disney movie. "M'lord." It 's the stupidest most ridiculous thing someone has said to him in a long time. Though apparently that doesn't stop his heart from making a sharp double beat like it had tripped and was trying to catch up. Ignoring that he breezes past Charlie, grabs his coat off of the rack and heads outside.

The zoo isn't nearly as stupid as he was expecting. But seeing as Steven hasn't been to a zoo since before he hit puberty he wasn't really the best judge. The majority of the people at the zoo seemed to be school trips. Dozens of little kids in matching uniforms tramping off together to go look at the tigers. Steven has to stop in a surprising fit of nostalgia for his own prep school days. "You okay?" Charlie asks stopping in the path.

"Yeah, no I'm fine." He shakes his head, "Good. I'm good."

He follows Charlie in a daze. He leads him over to an enclosure with a huddle of mothers with strollers in front of it. Giraffes. Charlie leans on the ledge and rests his head on his crossed arms. He turns his head so he can see Steven "I love giraffes. I think I was a giraffe in a former life."

"You're a bit short."

"Look whose talking! Come here, back to back, I'm totally taller than you!"

"You're wearing boots and a hat!"

Charlie grabs his forearm, "C'mon, we're going to settle this!"

"I thought we were going to look at the giraffes!" Steven protests but lets himself be dragged along.

"I can watch them anytime online. This is _pressing_." He drags him past the reptile house and into a door hidden by a jungle mural painted over top of it. Inside it quite depressingly looks like the office Steven works in.

"Hi," Charlie says sidling up to a girl's desk, "I'm looking for Chris."

"She's over there." The girl says without looking up from the game of solitaire she's playing. A model employee. Steven has no choice but to slouch after Charlie over to the desk of a good looking blonde who flicks her eyes up from her computer screen and hastily looks down again when she sees him.

"What do you want Charlie, if this is about Knox-" She starts.

Charlie cuts her off, "Which one of us is taller!"

"Sorry, what?"

"Who's taller, me or him?" He asks already pulling off his orange desert boots and throwing them to the floor with two resounding clunks.

Steven gives her an apologetic half-smile. She looks up at him and then back at Charlie. "Him." She says jerking her head in Steven's direction.

"Chris, c'mon, Chris! You didn't even look! Chriiiiiiiiiis." He pulls Steven towards him so they're standing back to back. "C'mon. Look, who's taller?"

Sighing she leans forward resting her chin in her hands. "Hmmm..." She takes a long deliberate pause. "Him." She says finally pointing at Steven. "Like just a fraction of an inch. You're both still short."

Charlie spins around, "What! No! It's the hair, your hair is making you taller." He reaches out a hand to pat down the front of Steven's hair and it's like everything goes all distorted and wavy like heat off of concrete in the summer. Steven's vision seems to zoom in like a camera lens looking at Charlie looking at him.

"Guys?" Chris asks, "Do you have to do that in front of my desk?"

"Sorry," Charlie says from a million miles away. "We should go."

"We should go." Steven echoes.

Chris stands up as they leave, "And if Knox asks about me-"

"Yes, yes, you're Single Ladying it up and it's fantastic!" Charlie calls over his shoulder pulling on his desert boots. He throws the door open and Steven grabs him by the collar of his coat and pulls Charlie against him on the wall with the jungle mural.

"You're so not taller than me." Charlie whispers so Steven shuts him up with his mouth. Vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind Steven knows they shouldn't be making out like a pair of horny teenagers in what is essentially a public place. Though that doesn't stop him from curling a hand around Charlie's neck and up into his hair and flicking his tongue across the roof of his mouth which makes Charlie make this _sound_.

"Race you to the car," Charlie says a little bit hoarsely when the need to oxygenate their blood becomes pressing.

"Yeah." Charlie grabs him by the hand and they half run half drag one another back to the car. And even though Steven wants to get to somewhere with a bed as soon as possible he doesn't seem to be able to stop himself from leaning over the gearshift and kissing Charlie wetly.

"God, okay. Steven, you have to stop or I won't..." Charlie says in a helpless little voice as he tries to stick the keys in the ignition with shaking hands. "Oh, fuckit. C'mere." He says throwing the keys to the floor and unbuckling his seatbelt and then his pants.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N. I was actually not planning on having them get together for like another 2 chapters, but then this happened. The idea that an author has control over what they write is laughable. <strong>

**-C**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence!**

**Chapter Six**

* * *

><p>Weirdly, having sex with a guy he's only known for a few days in a car in the parking lot of a zoo was not the strangest thing that happened to Steven Meeks that day. That would be after when they pulled up to Charlie's house.<p>

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"Why is Dr. Murder standing on your front lawn?"

"Uh, about that-"

"Charlie!" Dr. Murder shouts waving his arms, "Code Red! Code Red!"

Steven is jolted with a sudden burst of realization. "Omigod, that's the guy from the house. Am I living in Dr. Murder's house!" He turns and glares at Charlie who is looking at the steering-wheel sheepishly trying to conceal a grin.

"Charlie!" Dr. Murder says again limbs flying akimbo as he runs down the pathway that leads down from Charlie's front door to the driveway. "Code red!"

Charlie rolls down the window, which is the old handcrank style and just aids in the ridiculousness of the situation. "Cat Dennings died!"

"No, that's code maroon! Jesus Charlie I made you a chart and everything it's not that hard to keep track. No Knox got dumped."

"So you brought him to my house?" Charlie rolls his eyes, "Thanks Neil, I _really_ appreciate that. Nothing I like better than dealing with an inconsolable Knox on my day off." He climbs out of the car narrowly missing jamming the steering-wheel into his stomach. "Also don't you think my cat dying should be higher on the priority list, I feel like code red is like the worse thing that can happen. Knox gets dumped like twice a month."

Steven watches unsure whether he's supposed to follow or stay put until Charlie spins around clearly looking for him. He runs back to the car and pulls his door open leaning in close to whisper; "God, I'm so sorry, my friends are ridiculous, you're awesome, and you can totally come and have that shower. Did that sound like a come on? It wasn't. Just, you said you wanted to shower and-"

"Yeah, I got it Charlie." Steven said brushing past him and striding into the house with Charlie and Dr. Murder following behind. Clustered in Charlie's living room was a red-eyed Knox, a redheaded guy, a gorgeous women with the fairest blonde hair he'd ever seen, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar and a dark haired girl. They all look up as he walks in. "Uh, hi. I'm just...don't mind me" He babbles making a bee-line for the stairs and banging his foot painfully on the wrought iron in an attempt to get up the stairs as quickly as possible.

Steven spends significantly longer in the shower than is really necessary, reading the labels of Charlie's shampoo and body wash, and it's not until after he's out of the shower fumbling for his glasses that he realizes that the shirt that's on the floor is not in fact his. "Oh fuck." He mutters running a hand through his wet hair debating whether he should just put the shirt on and go back downstairs or if he should hide up in Charlie's bedroom.

Hiding wins out. Though he does end up putting Charlie's shirt on, it's a long sleeve thermal, which is why he probably thought it was his. Only this one has a faded Harvard logo. Steven's unsure whether this means Charlie went to Harvard or if it's meant to be ironic. Or possibly both.

He can hear voices drifting up from the open space in the floor where the staircase is, the occasional shout or laugh breaking above the hum. Steven wanders around Charlie's room feeling like an intruder yet not being able to stop himself from snooping at least a little bit. He's got stacks and stacks of manuscripts which seemed to be in a random order, but now that he's looking more closely he can see that they're actually organized by category and flagged with little yellow post-it notes.

He picks one out at random, a sticky note on the top declaring it be: "Not total crap". Though that categorization causes him to question both Charlie's taste and how bad "Total crap" must be. He still has a grudge against teen fiction for ruining the quiet town he had moved to after graduation. Forks was actually a pretty decent place to live until all the fangirls showed up in droves.

Steven's a third of the way through a horribly written manuscript involving some chick who can _see_ what people are thinking, not hear, but see. Like she goes around all day watching everyone's personal subtitles. Suddenly the top of Charlie's head appears on the stairs. "Hey," He says, "You can come down, almost everyone's gone. 'Cept Neil and Todd but they don't care."

"Uh, okay." Steven says setting the manuscript back on top of the pile and giving Cat Dennings a pat from where she's curled herself up on the duvet. Charlie's wearing his shirt and it gives him a weird little thrill that he's never had before. They're probably about the same size but he's got broader shoulders and he can see where it stretches a little.

"So, you're friends with Dr. Murder?" Steven asks following him.

"Yeeeeeah." Charlie says, "Though Neil's kind of embarrassed about the whole thing, it was his first acting gig. Though, I mean his dad did always want him to be a doctor."

"I'm sure it's _exactly_ what he pictured," Steven adds quietly, Charlie's entire first-floor is really just one room afterall. For the neighbourhood it's tiny in fact, only one bedroom and one bathroom yet somehow it's large enough to contain Charlie and all his _stuff_.

Dr. Murd-Neil is sitting on a stool in the kitchen with the same blonde guy from earlier Ted or something leaning on the counter. Now that he knows he's Jeffery's brother he can see the family resemblance, the line of the jaw and the nose. Although this guy doesn't give off the same aura of self-importance.

"Hey," Neil says looking up and waving, his hands encased in Charlie's over mitts which just so happen to be in the shape of sharks. "Nice to see you again, Steve right?"

"Steven." Charlie corrects before Steven has the chance.

He nods affirmatively. "Did you guys go to Harvard together?" Steven looks down at his, or rather Charlie's shirt.

"No!" He says at the exact same moment that Charlie says "Yes!". "Er, um well I mean we kind of did. I went to MIT and Harvard's like just on the other side of the bridge."

"So we were only 364.4 Smoots away from one another. But like we didn't know one another."

"Plus or minus an ear."

"What?" Charlie says.

"It's 364.4 Smoots plus or minus an ear."

Neil nods vaguely, "Uh, okay." Luckily the timer for the oven decides to go off at that moment thus ending the awkwardness.

The unknown Anderson turns to Charlie, "Jeffery keeps texting me, says he sent you a message and you didn't reply."

Charlie sits down on Neil's vacated chair. "Yeah, well I'm on vacation, and he's on his _honeymoon_." he adds darkly. "Seriously Todd, I'm not Jeffery's personal lapdog, if he needs something he can call the office."

"Dude, who are you and what have you done to Charlie Dalton?" Neil asks his hands full of the try he pulled from the oven, "Cause last time I checked you were crying over your 5 year crush on Jeffery over his wedding cake."

"You're a dick." Charlie snaps.

"Yes. But I made candied bacon so if you want some you'll just have to deal with it."

"Uh, using my bacon, my sugar, my pan, and my oven. So no I really don't. Neil drop it seriously." Charlie says, all traces of humour gone from his voice.

"Alright, alright,Jesus." He pulls the tray out of the oven and branishes it in Todd's direction. "You want some?"

"Yeah, hmm, candied bacon, that definitely sounds like something I should be putting in my body. Isn't it like everytime you eat a piece of bacon you loose a second off of your life? You'd probably loose like five for everytime you eat that." Todd says.

Charlie halts, his hand hovering over the tray, "Wait. Is that true!" He pulls it back, which is probably a good idea, health issues aside, melted sugar burns are skinpeelingly awful. He looks over at Steven who just shrugs, he's less concerned with the fact that it could take 5 seconds off his life and whether his mother would at all be able to find out if he ate any. He hasn't gone to Temple in almost 2 years and he's still not sure how he feels about God, oh and that whole sleeping with dudes thing, but damn it, not eating pork was the only Jewish-y thing Steven was able to do. And he was loosing the battle on that one too with the introduction of candied bacon.

"You know, must people think that the Jewish dietary laws came about due to infections from tapeworm and other parasites from poor cooking methods." He blurts out.

"Wha?" Charlie asks, a piece of bacon in his mouth, apparently deciding it's worth the 5 seconds he's going to loose.

"I'm trying to justify eating this so I won't go to Jewish hell."

"I though Juadism didn't have a hell?" Neil asked his hand wrapped around Todd's waist, still encased in the shark oven mitt.

Steven took a long calming breath and then blew it out. "It's complicated. But I probably shouldn't. Just in case." He gives the tray one last sad glance. "So your friend, Knox, is he okay?" He asked.

Todd shrugs, "I guess it depends on what you mean by fine. I mean he's an absolute wreck-"

"-But that's pretty much normal for him." Neil finishes, "Knox's tends to get really attached to the girls he dates really quickly. I mean him a Tarah were only going out for like a month."

Jeffery had told Steven once that he was too distant, never as invested in the relationship as maybe he should have. In a stupid way he's envious of people who can become so invested in those they love, or those they think they love. Just open up their hearts and let everything in with no questions. But since holding Jeffery at arms length in an attempt not to be hurt had sort of worked maybe he shouldn't worry about it so much.

"Really he's still hung up on Chris." Charlie says from his perch on the counter, he bangs his heels against the lower cupboards, scuffing the cheap wood.

"Wait...are you _all _gay." Steven says. "Are you exclusively friends with the gay 20 somethings of Rhode Island?"

Charlie giggles, not laughs, actually giggles at him like he's 12 or something. "You're cute. No, Chris the girl from the zoo."

"Oh. You mean the cute blonde girl who said I'm taller than you?" Steven counters.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to add judging distance to Chris' list of flaws. The other things on the list is that she dumped Knox and also she won't give me a friends and family discount to get into the zoo. But alas, as always I formulated a brilliant plan while you guys just comforted Knox with empty words. I am throwing a party."

Neil groaned and Todd looked a little terrified. "Seriously Charlie? I thought the cops threatened to arrest you last time."

"What could they arrest me for? Showing people a good time?"

"Uh, no it's called disturbing the peace. Dude, look it up there was a whole episode of Dr. Murder about it."

This was true. The episode was actually about a dinner party Dr. Merder had thrown which turned into chaos after he turned in Dr. Murder.

"Need I remind you," Charlie says from his perch, "The last time I threw a party I did it because you had a crush on this shy writer I knew from work and I wanted to help get you together."

Todd turns to Neil wide eyed, "Wait, what?"

"Uhhhhh." Neil says. "We should go." He says half dragging Todd by the arm to the front door.

"You through a party to get me and Neil together? Who does that?" Todd snaps half at Neil and half at Charlie before he disapears from view out the front door.

"The best friend you will ever have." Charlie calls solemnly after them, he turns to Steven. "Party? You in?"

"Uh. I guess so." He says, flustered. "I'm probably not doing anything else."

"Good." Charlie says. "C'mere." He throws out one of his legs and uses it to hook around Steven's waist and pull him closer. He's still sitting on the counter so Steven has to look up at him slightly.

"Yes?"

Charlie runs his hands over his shoulders, "You're wearing my shirt."

"I am."

"We should fix that." Charlie whispers wetly against the shell of his ear, already running his hands up the back of his shirt.

So they do.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N. I seem to get a lot of inspiration for this fic while watching Food Network, which may explain all the awesome food. <strong>

**-C **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: No matter how many birthday cakes I wish on Dead Poets Society still does not belong to me. **

**Greetings from Providence!**

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

><p>Like relaxation it takes Steven remarkably little time to get used to sleeping with Charlie. So it's not at all weird, when 10 days into his vacation (and 23 days after getting dumped by Jeffery) he's waking up to the sounds of <em>Bad Romance<em> coming out of his phone with Charlie sprawled beside him facedown in the mattress and Cat Dennings curled up against his face. He half-falls out of the bed knocking down a pile of manuscripts and retrieving his phone out of his jacket.

"'lo?" He says without checking the caller ID, no point since his glasses are resting on the side table.

"Steven?" A voice says, just a little bit louder than in really necessary over the phone.

He silently curses, "Hi mom." He feels strangely guilty talking to his mother while only wearing his briefs, oh and one sock, even if it's only on the phone. "I, uh, I've been meaning to call you." He shoots a glance over at Charlie and pads into the bathroom wrapping a robe around himself. Now that the guy he's been having casual sex with is out of sight and he's slightly less naked he feels a little bit calmer.

"Your friend Jared-"

"Gerard." Steven corrects, his mother is infamously bad at names.

She sighs through her nose, "Yes, that's what I said. Your friend Gerald called me after I left you a message at home, he said you were in Providence of all places. Some sort of stress-leave vacation."

"Yeah. That's pretty much it." He lies.

"Is this about that boy your were dating? Jeremy?" His mother had been weirdly okay with him being gay. Actually the first thing she had said after he came out was 'Don't worry, we'll find you a nice Jewish boy'. She had been using Vermont's gay marriage as an incentive for him to move back home for years as well as trying to hook him up with one of her friend's sons, Isaac Goldberg. "Well he obviously wasn't the one. You know when I met your father-"

"It was like you were looking at an optical illusion and you finally saw the picture. Yes mom, I've heard."

"I just don't want you to give up hope. You know I saw a website advertised on television the other day-"

"I'm not joining J-Date." He scoffed, "I don't care if Brenda's daughter met her husband through it."

"Alright, fine, fine. Are you going to come home for Thanksgiving? I need to know how many people I'm cooking for. I'm assuming it'll just be you."

Steven looked down at Charlie's vanity, it was covered with soaps and lotions he had nicked from hotels and packages of pomade. "Yeah, just me." He looks at his reflection in the mirror.

"Hmmm, maybe I could invite Isaac Goldberg-"

"Goodbye mom." He says hanging up and setting his phone facedown on the vanity. His head hurts now, though whether that's from the phone call or being drunk under the table by Charlie's friends he's not sure. Surprisingly he really liked Charlie's group of friends, and he had never really been good at socializing with people. Last night they had gone out with Cameron who Charlie knew from boarding school and his wife Blix, who was from some unknown Nordic country, 6 feet tall and completely gorgeous. She was also able to drink 5 grown men under the table which just adds to her list of admirable qualities.

He pads back over to the bed throwing off the robe halfway. Charlie turns his head and blinks at him sleepily. "Hey."

"Hey," Steven says flopping onto the bed, Cat Denning's immediately climbed over Charlie and rearranged herself above Steven's head on the pillow.

"I think she's attracted to your hair. Like a bull with a red flag."

"There are so many things wrong with that sentence that I'm just going to choose to ignore it." Steven says "How's your hangover?"

Charlie hums, "Not bad. After a few nights with Blix you learn to stay away from the hard stuff. Who were you on the phone with?"

Steven groans but Charlie turns up onto his side to look at him, "My mom. She's trying to set me up with Isaac Goldberg."

"Who the fuck is Isaac Goldberg?"

"Literally the only gay Jewish guy my mom knows. She's still mad that my older sister eloped, I think she's trying to relive her wedding fantasy through me. But of course I'd need to have someone to marry first."

It was weird talking about his relationship woes with Charlie. Not that he thought they were anything serious because they obvious weren't, but still, it was awkward.

"I read somewhere," He adds after a pause so long Steven had actually thought he had gone back to sleep, "that in Judaism people are technically married after they have sex, is that true?"

"Eh, kind of. You need to have two witnesses to begin with."

"We could call Neil and Todd. We did have sex in their bed after all, it's only fair."

"You're the _worst_." Steven says hitting him in the face with a bolster pillow.

"Ow! Spousal abuse!" Charlie says tackling him and holding him down so he can plant wet kisses along his collarbone. And well that's that.

Charlie spends a lot of time over the next couple of days planning his party. Which he calls Operation Get-Chris-and-Knox-Back-Together. Naming things has never been one of Charlie's strengths. "Are you sure it's worth it, just to get some of your friends back together?" Steven asks looking over Charlie's shoulder at the laptop screen. He was planning to have the whole thing catered and everything.

"Please, I spent twice as much to get Todd and Neil together, besides what else am I going to do with all the money I inherited. I'm the only heir to _two_ different families. Besides I'm a romantic." He firmly clicked the 'add to cart' button and shut his laptop.

"So, what are you going to be for the party?" He asked throwing and arm around the back of the chair, half so he could look at Steven and half so he could crack his back loudly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's a Halloween party, you have to come in costume." Charlie didn't roll his eyes, he didn't need to, his tone said it all.

"Can't I just wear orange and black or something?" This was traditionally how he avoided both looking like a fool and being called out as a spoil sport on Halloween. Once when he was in college he wore a cowboy hat, but that was about as elaborate as his costumes had been since he was 12 and he dressed up as Robbie the Robot from _Forbidden Planet. _

"It's a _costume_ party," Charlie said again, "Don't tell me you're one of those people who doesn't like Halloween, or I may have to ask you to leave."

Steven actually had always liked Halloween as a kid. Though he had grown up in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood the school's he had attended weren't. Unlike around Christmas when he always felt left out Halloween was something he had always been able to share with his school friends.

"Fine I'll dress up." He says relenting and Charlie grins at him stupidly happy. "So, Knox and Chris. True love forever and ever?" He perches himself on the counter because really there isn't anywhere else to sit in the kitchen with Charlie and a stack of plates occupying the chairs.

"Yes. And no." Charlie hums thoughtfully. "It's like, you know how people say getting back together with an ex is like putting bad milk in the fridge and thinking it'll be better later?"

"People don't say that but okay."

"Chris and Knox aren't like milk though, they're like I dunno. Pie."

"Pie?" Steven asks, Charlie really has a thing for these food analogies he's noticed.

"They just hadn't baked long enough separately, you know like the crust and the filling, so they didn't work when you put them together and you just couldn't keep cooking them like that. You had to make them separate again so they could get done." Charlie pauses, "Maybe eggs benedict would have been a better example. Let me start over."

"Charlie. I get it. I did graduate from MIT, please give me a little credit."

"Alright," He says, "But the point is I think they've grow up enough on their own and they could actually work out this time."

Steven frowns, the one and only time he had gotten back together with an ex it had ended with a rubix cube being chucked at his head. So he had his doubts that this whole plot would even work, but Charlie seemed happy planning his party and Steven wasn't about to burst his bubble.

Not until two days later when he's standing on his porch sorting the mail does Steven get a glimpse at how dangerous this could actually be. He squints at the Charlie shaped thing moving dangerous fast down the drive way. "What the fuck?" He mutters under his breath and then louder, "What the hell are you doing!"

"I'm skateboarding! Lookit me I'm a menace to society!" And that's when Charlie tumbles ass over heels straight into the concrete with a resounding crack which will haunt Steven's dreams for the rest of his life, he's sure. Then he's beside Charlie and he doesn't know how he managed to get from the gate to here but it doesn't matter because he's bleeding.

"Oh god, you're bleeding." He reaches up to wipe the blood out of Charlie's eyes. "You idiot! This is what happens to people with too much money and too little common sense! Fuck." He says, and then again. "Fuck." He can't tell where he's bleeding from because it seems to be trickling from underneath his hair. It might just be a scrape or something but head injuries are terrifying things so he calls the ambulance anyways.

So, 15 days into his trip Steven finds himself right back where he started, in the emergency room dealing with a head injury.

The paramedics are wheeling Charlie into an examination room. The blood was only from a scrape just above his forehead, under the hairline but they're worried that the impact may have caused some real damage. "Sorry," The paramedic says to Steven, "Immediate family only."

"No," Charlie says reaching for his sleeve, "No, he's my husband. We're commonlaw." He says, sounding a little hysterical. Which might explain why Steven doesn't just yank his arm away and contradict him. After all he doesn't want the doctors to think Charlie has brain damage or something.

"Alright." The paramedic says leading them into an examination room, she helps Charlie up onto the table where he sways once dangerously but otherwise seems fine. Steven steadies him and smiles at her until she leaves the room. Then he turns on Charlie.

"What the fuck!" He asks, angrily but not loudly. "You can't just lie to the hospital! I'm not your-" He stops, Charlie is trembling against his arm where he's supporting him. "What's wrong? Charlie?"

"I fucking hate hospitals." He squeezes out, "Doctors, dentists. I just can't, okay. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steven says dumbly, feeling like a total asshole.

Which is why when the doctor's come in to examine Charlie (he does have a mild concussion) Steven just holds his hand and doesn't say anything unless he's spoken to. Then he drives Charlie back to his place with a list of care instructions ("Now no _strenuous activities_ you two." The doctor had said) and expects Charlie to go to sleep on the couch. Only he doesn't. He follows Steven up to his room and curls around him on the bed sighing and whispering "Thank you".

Suddenly everything's messy and complicated and scary.

And Steven doesn't give a fuck.


End file.
